This is an unpublished post loosely related to the yogic idea of santosha from a couple years ago. I found it as I looked through draft posts today, preparing to begin to blog again. I find it especially poignant now. After my recent loss, I have found myself vacillating between wanted to be in my designated, physical “sacred spaces” and not wanting to be anywhere near them. What has not changed is the need to connect with what is inside me every single day…
On Sacred Space, Nov 2015:
We talk about sacred space … how creating a sacred space can make something special,something that can help remind us to do the things we value, that honors the things we value. We talk about the body, too, as a temple and honoring it. I think more about my body as an instrument; it is the implement through which I do my work and the vehicle that most supports my personal exploration. But what if we thought about the body not as a temple or an instrument but as the altar itself, the very center of all we hold dear, all we believe, the place in which we find exaltation?
Reading Pico Iyer’s book The Open Road (which I HIGHLY recommend) has left me thinking about alot of things… one is the idea that our home need not be a physical place outside ourselves, that our homeland can be a place inside ourselves. We don’t need physical places to be grounded and rooted. We can transfer those ideas into our bodies, minds, spirits. Tibet as a physical, geographic homeland may be becoming a thing of the past, something that no longer exists as people remember it. But the culture, the philosophies that upheld it for so many years, the ideals that even westerners embrace can live on. Perhaps, it comes down to what you truly honor in your day to day life, what you choose to live with. A peoples’ home, a person’s home, can be inside, can be something that they live every single day. They can be the alter. It requires a commitment to recognizing the beauty that you are capable of holding. We can all do this.
So, if your being were your alter, your sacred space, how might you thinking of it differently, how might you care for it? How might you honor the last vestiges of your beliefs?
In the words of Kabir:
Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O Friend! go not there!
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus,
And there gaze on the infinite Beauty.